


MC in the Middle | The Arcana

by Gracie_Writes976g_8



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Asra/Julian/MC is my absolute jam, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, short chapters I'm afraid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracie_Writes976g_8/pseuds/Gracie_Writes976g_8
Summary: A story based on my MC's shameless inability to decide between Asra and Julian. (definitely not based on my own slutty slutty fantasies or Dodie's 'in the middle'). Starts after book VII of Julian's route, but incorporates elements of all 3 main routes. Some plot... I guess... "You" have a "female" body.I'm not sure where this is headed at the moment, or when it will end, but I'm certainly going to post what I have written already and see where that gets to.Reviews and comments are much much appreciated!





	1. "It's never been like that between us"

You stir sleepily in the narrow bed you share with your master. The morning sunlight streams through the open curtains, a light breeze tickling your face. Strange, you could have sworn you shut them last night...  
"Morning sleepy head"  
Of course. Asra is home. He greets you with a small smile and a cup of smokey tea. You grin and take it, murmuring your thanks. Asra sits down next to you, wiry frame barely depressing the worn mattress. You sit in silence while you savour your tea. Normally this would be comfortable, but today you feel distinctly awkward.  
"Asra... I'm sorry for offloading onto you like that last night"  
His smile tightens a little, but he says "Don't worry about it" You still feel embarrassed.  
"You don't need to apologise for telling me your worries. And you don't need to apologise for showing romantic interest in someone, if that's what you're worried about." You shuffle uncomfortably until he rests a slender hand on your thigh...  
"It's never been like that between us" Asra finishes softly.  
You sigh. People do tend to talk, about the magician and his apprentice, but he's right- it has never been like that between the two of you... Or has it? You can't remember. And the way he talks sometimes, or looks at you... Sometimes you wonder if the townspeople's whispers might actually have a grain of truth in them. Sure, you're affectionate, and you're not shy about each others bodies, but you live together, share a bed even. That's normal, right? Asra carefully takes your cup and, pressing a kiss to your forehead, wanders downstairs, presumably to open up the shop for the day.  
You think about Julian- Ilya, Asra called him- you wonder why- and expect to feel angry, but instead, you just feel exasperated, and slightly guilty. You ponder on this as you dress. "You don't need to apologise for showing romantic interest in someone" Asra had said, but...

Your train of thought is interrupted by voices from downstairs. A customer already? You throw on your last item of clothing and head down to help out.  
To your surprise, Portia is leaning on the counter across from Asra, wide eyed as he shows her a talisman he brought back from one of his recent trips. She's so engrossed in Asra's description that she doesn't even notice you come down the stairs. Asra does though. "Ah, I was just thinking about coming to get you," he says, smiling his lopsided smile.

"Portia," you say pleasantly. You wonder if something has happened with Julian.  
"Oh! I'm glad I caught you!" She says. "The countess wanted me to check up on how the investigation is going... You know, with Il- Julian." She glances at Asra with fear in her eyes. "It's okay Portia, you can trust Asra," you say, just as Asra muses "Ilya and I know eachother well, Portia, no need to worry" Portia looks relieved, if confused.  
A small silence intervenes, while Portia twists her thumbs nervously. It's a tic you've noticed before, and you can't help thinking it's ridiculously cute.  
"Do you want me to catch him?" You ask gently. She starts.  
"Why would that matter?" Her face tells exactly why.  
"Because if she hands him over to Nadi, Ilya will be hung" Asra says. Portia looks between us, tears welling in her eyes.  
"Of course I don't. Do you?" The answer comes immediately. "No" you say, and Portia immediately livens up.  
"Great! We're partners then!"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well we want the same thing. You don't want my brother to die, I don't want my brother to die, now we just have to make sure my brother doesn't want my brother to die!"  
Asra chuckles. "Good luck with that"  
"Yes, well..." Portia trails off.  
"It's okay. Give him something to live for and he'll be fine" Asra says, eyeing you slightly sadly. "Considering what happened last night, I'd expect to find him in a pub. Perhaps the Rowdy Raven."  
"Where's that?" You ask  
"I know," Portia says, eyeing you curiously. You suppose you're going to have to tell her what has happened over the last few days. You look at Asra. He's settling into his chair behind the counter, Faust wrapped languidly around his neck. She pokes her tongue out at you affectionately. The two of them are obviously staying here.  
"Okay" you say to Portia. "Lead on!"


	2. "You haven't scared me off"

The Rowdy Raven certainly lives up to its name. Despite the early hour, it's full of patrons, some that you suspect haven't left since last night... Julian is one of them. He's slumped in a corner booth, the dark table in front of him littered with empty, slightly sour smelling glasses. Portia takes one look at him, informs me in no uncertain terms that she will be "kicking his ass", and slams her fists down on the table hard enough to knock glasses over. You make a mental note never to get on her bad side.  
"Ilya! Are you trying to get caught?!"  
Julian looks at her, bleary eyed. Apparently he doesn't see the murderous look in her eyes, or he's simply too drunk to care for his own wellbeing, as his response to the fiery haired dragon currently breathing smoke over him is to say groggily "oh fuck off Pasha, no one in here's gonna turn me in"  
Portia grabs the knife hanging from my hip quicker than I can react, and stabs it into the table between Julian's splayed fingers.  
"God help me Ilya, I'll turn you in myself if you don't get your shit together!" The pub goes quiet. The only sound is the squeaking of the dirty rag the bartender is using to polish the glasses behind the bar.  
Julian forces a smirk onto his face. "Nothing to see here folks, just a little sibling squab-" his smirk falls off his face like melting butter as he catches sight of you. You see him mouth your name as the noise level in the pub gradually rises again. He says it again, louder, and tries to compose his expression. "Ahem. What are you doing here?"  
"I'm with her" you nod towards Portia, who still looks ready to kill Julian.  
"Um, uh, why?"  
"Because you're being a prize idiot,” you say. “Half this town and the countess wants you hung, and yet here you are, drinking away your sorrows in broad daylight, asking to get caught!” You were really warming up to this. Julian confused and frustrated you, especially with your emotions regarding Asra thrown in, and felt good to give him a piece of your mind.  
“I'd deserve it,” Julian murmurs, his face sorrowful.  
“No Ilya!” Portia's voice cracks.  
“But it's true. She's right, I am an idiot. A drunken, good for nothing, idiot. And after last night…” he looks up at you with eyes like a kicked puppy, and suddenly all the rage in you dissipates. You sit down suddenly and take his hand. It's warmer than last night, from the alcohol or the blush that suddenly creeps across his cheeks, you don't know.

“Are you really beating yourself up over that? Julian, there was barely anything between us-” -the sorrowful look is back- “but you haven't scared me off.” Out of the corner of my eye you catch Portia's sudden burst of understanding, but you’re more focussed on Julian. He's looking at you with awe, but then his face crumples.  
“But I don't want you caught up in this. You said it yourself, I'm going to get caught.”  
“That's not your decision to make, Ilya,” Portia says, taking his other hand. “We want to help you. We're not going to let you hang, not for something you didn't do.”  
“But that's the thing, I don't know if I did it or not. And I can't leave until I do.” Portia and you look at eachother. You think the same thing.

“The best place to start would be in the palace. Can you get us in?”  
“You easy, but him… I don't know.” Julian looks between us, bewildered.  
“Come on,” you say, hauling him bodily out of the booth, “I know what to do… I hope.”


	3. "I am way too drunk for this"

Outside in the alley, and a few sobering pints of water later, you take a deep breath. Julian stands in front of you, still bemused. Portia stands of to the side, excitement dancing in her eyes.  
“You ready?” You ask.   
“I'm a little concerned I don't know who- or what- you're turning me into,” Julian replies, but you shush him, nerves making you snappy. The question was more for you than him anyway. You delve deep inside yourself, to where your magic pulses, and pull on it, feeling the power, shaping it to your will. You flick your hands towards Julian’s face and watch as it changes. At first it looks like paint, dripping down his hair and turning it white, but when it reaches his skin it looks more surreal, an uneven tide flowing down his skin and transforming everything it encounters.  
“Oh, sheesh, that looks weird,” Portia says.  
“It feels it!” remarks Julian, looking at you with one grey eye and one violet, the eye patch having melted away to reveal it. You wonder absentmindedly what Julian’s eye looks like under that patch, or if he even has one. The magic continues spreading downwards, changing clothes from black leather to flowing linen and gold jewelry, and by the time Julian checks out his reflection in the water trough next to you, he looks exactly like your master. His voice is still the same though.  
“Oh no, oh no, no, no, I am way too drunk for this.” His grin is the same too, handsome and lopsided… and stirring something deep in your belly. You mentally shush yourself, cringing at the notion, but… Julian and Asra together are just so attractive!

There’s nothing wrong with thinking that though, right? You mean, you know Asra’s body almost as intimately as your own, it’s normal to be able to consider him attractive, like, objectively. But Julian’s smirk on Asra’s face… Thankfully Portia’s squeal of delight at your show of magic pulls you out of those dangerous thoughts.  
“Right,” you say firmly, dragging Julian away from the water trough where he was busy making various expressions at his reflection, “We need to get to the palace before this wears off.”


	4. “There are some things you can’t run away from my friend.”

The glamour drops as soon as the library doors shut behind you, and you slide down the wall, desperate for a rest. Julian, back to his lanky, redheaded, gorgeous self, quickly kneels beside you, feeling your forehead and searching your face restlessly.  
“I’m okay,” you say. “just need a moment.” Julian sits back with you against the wall. For a moment there’s silence, then,  
“What was that?”  
“What, that thing in the corner?”  
“No, I mean- I want to know that too, but… What was that shock? When you touched me?”  
Oh.  
“You felt it too?” He nods. “Honestly, I don’t know. I zapped the light through you, so it would look more real, but I don’t know what that shock was. I’ve never transmitted my magic through someone else before though, no I guess it’s normal. Plus, you were already under one of my enchantments. So maybe the two spells didn’t work well together?” You hope your lie stays buried under the rest of your words. Most of what you said is true, you don’t know what it was, and you have never done that before… but you’re almost certain it’s not normal.  
“Huh.” Julian seems like he’s going to say more, but stops himself. Apparently satisfied that you aren’t in any mortal danger, he wanders through the shelves, picking up books here and there. Once your heart rate slows a little, you get up and follow him as he meanders towards his desk.

As you wind your way through the shelves, you grow curious- there’s traces of magic here, lingering around the books like a gloved hand stroking their spines. You pick one up, an elegant purple volume that releases a single pressed fern leaf when opened. It flutters to the ground, but when you pick it up, you’re suddenly awash with memory.

“And see here? The elegant way the stem curls around itself?” muses Nadia, her face slightly clouded by the haze of time separating us. “Truly unique to this particular variety of fern.” You watch as she traces her finger along the stem, a small smile on her lips.  
“And you eat it?”  
The voice is coming from you, but it is not your voice. This must be Asra’s memory…  
Nadia laughs and pulls the leaf away from your lips. “I’d have to call for your funeral if you were to do that. They are poisonous until cooked”

The memory fades into mist, and you come to, sat on the floor holding the fern and the purple book. You replace them, and chose another book, wondering if the same thing will occur.

You stand in the shop. In front of you is a huge man, enormously muscular, with scars across his bare abdomen, and a chain dangling from his neck that most people would strain to lift. His thick lips are twisted into a frown.  
“Asra, you mustn’t go to the palace.”  
“Don’t worry about me, he can’t hurt me. He’ll need to get out of bed first” The hulking figure leaves without a word. You stay staring at the closed door for a moment before sighing, “There are some things you can’t run away from my friend.”

You blink away the memory-haze and go looking for Julian. He’s at his desk, looking through drawers, with paper strewn all around him. You don’t want to disturb him, and besides, there’s another book calling you. This time it’s an enormous leather tome, with a gilded lock holding it closed. You know you shouldn’t really expend much more energy but you’re too curious. With a little whisper of magic, the lock clicks, and you open the book.

This memory is different. Harsher. But it still belongs to Asra, you think.  
“I’m growing tired of your failures, you insufferable clown!” a voice yells in the distance. Raspy, thick with phlegm.  
“Is he throwing another fit?” you ask with Asra’s voice. The comotion continues, and your lips, unfamiliar from this side of them, twitch in silent laughter.  
“If you’d just let me- Oh, Ah-!” A two-eyed Julian comes crashing down the stairs to Lucio’s wing.  
“Ah, Asra, um.” he gets up and brushes himself off. “What, er, what are you doing here? I mean, you’re looking well. You always look well of course but you’re practically glowing-”  
“Lucio’s not impressed by your bedside manner, Ilya?” Asra’s question is answered by a screech of  
“Don’t come back until you have something real to show me!” As Lucio calls for servants, Julian confides in Asra,  
“Well I think we can be certain he doesn’t like leeches.”

You’re chuckling when you come to this time. You pick up another book, and for the fourth time you’re transported back in time.

Blue fabric. Gauzy, a beautiful garment, really. You’re distantly aware that this dress is not for Asra, he would never wear such a deep colour. Your half-thought question is answered when Asra turns, holding up the dress in offering, and through his eyes you see… yourself?  
For a second the memory judders, as if reacting to your shock, but you have to see the rest of this. You don’t recognise the scene at all, and your hair is longer than you’ve ever known it- this could be a moment from your mysterious past. You take a deep breath and let the memory overtake you again.  
“Really Asra?” past you says, folding her arms.  
“Well what about this then?” You can hear his chuckle as he pulls out a garish, animal-printed ensemble. Past you shrieks and throws up her arms in mock horror.  
“You really want me to blind all the masquerade guests?”  
“You already blind me with your beauty” Asra says warmly, your vision, through him, focused on your past self’s blush.

You’re blushing when you re-enter the present world. If that was a memory… You think about what that could mean. “It’s never been like that between us,” Asra said this morning, but was he really telling the truth? Yes, it’s never been like that for all the time you remember, but there are years that you don’t. It’s really not that far fetched to think that the two of you were a couple before… whatever it is that made you forget.You can feel a headache coming on, so you make an effort to stop thinking about your past, and file it away for later consideration, if and when you feel up to it.


	5. "You're talking too much, Ilya"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the smut starts. And you all know exactly which smut I'm talking about. Things are really explicit here, so, be warned. Note on this and the previous chapter: I use some direct quotes, but I'm not claiming any part of the The Arcana universe or any characters therein. They belong to NixHydra.

You go back to Julian, who’s still looking through his desk. You casually glance at a drawing of a beetle, extravagantly intricate and seemingly not at all medically relevant, before turning your attention onto a red book he discarded, the fifth one to call to you with your master’s magic today. This one you don’t even need to open, at the lightest touch you’re transported away…

You’re in the library, almost exactly where you’re stood in real life. You’re looking at a diagram, one Julian is holding out to you.  
“Blood ritual?”  
“No,” answers Julian, “it’s called a transfusion.”  
“You know, I almost thought you were trying to show me your fantasies there, Ilya.” Julian blushes fiercely. He waits until Asra moves away a little before continuing.  
“Of course, there’s no way of knowing how safe it is, of if it will even work… damn, I can’t do that… what about bile?” he appears to be thinking aloud now.  
“Mmmmm,” you muse with Asra’s voice, walking away.  
“Hey! Where are you going?”  
“It’s getting dark Ilya, I need to get back to the shop.”  
“You’re never going to cure the plague like this! All you do is nap.” Julian looks petulant, arms folded. You put on Asra’s long coat.  
“Not all the time. Sometimes I daydream too.” You can hear the smile in his voice, but Julian doesn’t seem to appreciate it.  
“If you keep slacking off like this Asra… I won’t be able to protect you. If he dies-” Julian presses forwards and you feel his cool fingers on your wrists, your face hardening without your say-so “-I’m worried he’ll take you with him.” You pull away. “At least let me walk you home?” Julian pleads.  
“And interrupt your research? I’ll be fine on my own Ilya. Goodnight.” there’s a sharpness to Asra’s voice now. You doge a last touch from Julian, and the memory is over.

In the whiteness, you wonder about what you’ve seen. The relationship between the two men… were they more than friends? The book seems only happy to show you.

You’re at the shop, hanging up your coat.  
You get the feeling hardly any time has passed between this memory and the last one.  
A sudden knock on the door, and Julian bursts in, eyebrows pulled together.  
“Asra, we need to talk-”  
“Ilya, what are you doing here? I said I was fine walking home on my own.” Asra’s body carries you over to behind the counter, his hands reach out to a box filled with things you don’t recognise, things he’s never taught you. He lights a small cone of incense, and almost immediately pungent purple smoke billows from it. Julian chokes on it, dropping to his knees. Leaving the incense cone on the counter, Asra walks over to the kneeling doctor, winding a hand into his thick red hair. You can feel everything through Asra; the warmth of his magic; the lushness of julians hair; even his excitement.  
“What- what are you doing?” gasps Julian, looking up at Asra with both of his intact eyes watering from the smoke.  
“A magic trick,” Asra says huskily.  
“Something from those ridiculous tomes?”  
“Something from those ridiculous tomes. You know, as you’re here, I could find a use for you if you’d like to help.” Asra’s had moves to Julian’s jaw, pressing slightly too hard, turning his head this way and that.  
“Will this change anything?”  
“...I hope so.” Asra turns his heel on the double-layered conversation and heads to the back room. He doesn’t need to hear Julian’s footsteps to know he’s following him… he’s like a lost puppy. The back room is littered with strange herbs and apparatus, and on the table a magic circle glows softly. You gesture to it, lick your lips. Julian appears unsettled by the display, but when Asra’s lips move, asking for blood, bone, sweat or tears, he bites his lip deliciously.  
“Well, I, uh… I’ll give you all of me if that’s what you’d… if that’s what it takes.”  
“Oh Ilya, for now i just need your hand.” Julian extends his arm without hesitation, so eager to obey that he nearly knocks over a nearby bottle. His blush deepens. Your eyes meet for a moment. Your- Asra’s- ceremonial dagger cuts into Julian’s palm. He smirks as blood trickles on to the table, lighting up the circle brightly for a moment until it fades away.  
“Er, is that it?” Julian makes no move to remove his hand. Musical laughter escapes Asra’s lips, undercut with cruel mirth.  
“You want me you hurt you more?” he practically growls. Julian’s lip trembles as he lets out a small gasp. “That’s all I need from you, Ilya.”  
Julian scrambles to his feet as you turn away.  
“Now hold on Asra, what kind of magic are you getting yourself into? What did that do?”  
You’re still facing away from him, looking intently at the table. “I’m not sure. I wont know until it happens, if something even does happen.”  
“Are you putting yourself in dange- uuuughh”  
Tangy copper fills your mouth. Asra is holding Julian’s injured palm to his lips, running his tongue torturously slowly along the wound. Julian’s eyes are heavy   
lidded, locked onto yours. You pull your tongue away and swallow.  
“You’re talking to much, Ilya.”  
“Th-then just tell me what to do instead.” Julian’s voice is breathy, his eyes pleading. You feel a smirk creep onto Asra’s lips. You’re surprised to hear, when he next talks, his voice has become much deeper, lustful.  
“... You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Asra presses Julian back against the wall. He’s blabbing, telling you he’ll do anything you want, anything you need… he’s like butter in your hands.  
“I can’t give you everything you want, Ilya.”   
Julian drops down onto his knees, looking up at Asra with hungry, worshipful eyes.  
“I’ll take what I can get,” he says. Asra’s hand again slides into red hair, but rougher this time, eliciting a moan. Asra leans down, almost to his lips, so close you can feel his warm breath reflected back of of Julian’s skin.  
“Are you sure you can take it all?” he growls.  
“Yes, oh fuck, yes, please-” he cuts off as Asra’s thumb is thrust into his mouth. He sucks noisily, eyes closed in bliss. Asra pulls away, deliberately scraping his nail against Julian’s lip, making him bleed.

“Whatever you want,” Julian reiterates. He puts his hands behind his back, but he doesn’t have to wait long as Asra’s already pulling his cock out of his pants. He’s not quite fully erect yet, but Julian goes to work, licking and sucking for all he’s worth. A groan escapes Asra’s clenched teeth when Julian tongues his glans, then dives back in with fully hollowed cheeks, looking like God’s most debased angel around his cock. You can feel all of this, a peculiar sensation for a person without a penis, but oh it feels good. You can feel your balls drawing up, your hands clenched painfully tight in Ilya’s hair, the back of his throat as it impacts your tip again and again and-   
“Ugh, fuuuck!” You slam into his mouth and stay there, pumping your cum down his throat as your orgasm crashes over you, riding the waves of pleasure, appreciative of his tongue still lapping against your base as he gazes up at you.  
When you pull out, he makes a show of licking up all the cum that spilled out onto his chin, showing you his tongue covered in it. His knees are wide, his own erection straining at his leather pants.  
Asra licks his lips.  
“What do you want Ilya?” he asks.  
“Fuck, Asra, you know what I want”, Julian groans, looking at Asra’s twitching cock.  
“But I want to hear you say it. Say it!”  
“I want you to fuck me. Not in my mouth, for real.” You feel Asra’s lips curl up into a smile.  
“Good boy,” he says. “Come upstairs.”  
“Literally or metaphorically?” Julian smirks.  
“Depends,” says Asra, already climbing the stairs. Hurried footsteps tell you that he’s following.  
“On the bed,” you order. Julian complies, ass in the air. “Ropes or magic?” Julian’s breath hitches.  
“Ropes, please… sir?”  
“Master,” Asra corrects, arousal blooming in his loins again. You can feel it, how much he wants to just pound into Julian and try to forget… What? The thought is gone. He’s deliberately not thinking about it.

The ropes are tied, securely, and Ilya’s pale ass is bare, cock leaking precum and asshole fluttering. You kiss his back, his cheeks, finally his puckered hole, flick out your tongue to taste him. Its distinct, but not unpleasant. Asra’s tongue roves deeper, and you can feel him readily parting for you. It isn’t going to take long to warm him up.  
Asra’s attention moves to his own cock and you quietly wonder at it from this angle as he pumps his fist up and down his shaft, foreskin moving to reveal a glossy head, red from its recent stimulation. He slips a finger into Julian, who groans in ecstasy. You slide slowly in and out, until Julian whispers, “More,”. You make him say it again. “More!” he keens, so you add another finger. Asra’s other hand moves towards the windowsill, and you grasp a small vial of herb-infused oil, designed simultaneously to loosen and stimulate. Asra pours it over your cock, delighting in the slight tingle, and line up with Julian’s entrance. He can feel you waiting, empty of your fingers. “Yes,” he says, and Asra thrusts in, not sparing him, making him howl with the pleasure so sudden it’s almost painful. “Spank me,” he says, so you do, leaving Asra-shaped handprints across his ass and hips for what could be days to come, judging by the purple tinge of some of them. He rocks lustfully back against you, finding his angle, and you stay there, pumping a relentless pace and not thinking of her, not thinking of her, not thinking of- but Asra cries your name nevertheless when Julian cums and tightens around him so quick Asra would drop to his knees if he weren’t already kneeling. After, he flops onto the mattress, not caring whether the doctor stays or goes back to the palace.


	6. "I find you very, very attractive.”

You come to dizzy, on the floor. Julian is knelt in front of you again, saying your name, looking so worried your heart aches for him- but then, there are other parts of you aching for him right now, too.  
There are things you need to think about- Asra cried your name- but the doctor is looking at you with such gentleness, such care, your name falling from his soft lips like a prayer. You're wet, aroused by what you've seen those lips do. Your chest is heaving with desire and fuck it, you kiss him, drawing him down onto you with an undignified yelp. He tastes a little of alcohol when he starts to kiss you back. You nip his lower lip, one hand wound into his hair, one grasping his shirt, and he opens his mouth readily, allowing your tongues to twine together.  
He says your name again, pulling away, and you groan in frustration and desire.  
“I need to- I mean, first of all, are you okay? What happened? You just collapsed and wouldn't wake.” Bless him, he's so concerned.  
“I'm fine, Ilya,” you say, then realise your mistake when he freezes, a little shudder the only movement until  
“Why did you call me that? You haven’t- you never call me that.”  
You sigh, realising that your frustration is going to be unsatisfied for now, and begin to explain that you felt magic around some books, and when you touched them, you could access Asra's memories.  
“What did you see?” He asks. Despite breaking off the kiss, he hasn't let go of you, sitting in what must be a very uncomfortable position to stay near you. You consider lying to him, then realise you don't want to… and you owe him an explanation for the kiss.  
“You,” you say. You bite your lip. “Who you used to be to Asra.”  
“...Ah,” Julian shifts a little uncomfortably. “Did you…”  
“The memory was very explicit… it was of your first time with him, I think.”  
Julian is full-on blushing now. “Right, well, I was a very different person then, I hope, and uh, would you- I mean, you're not letting on much about what you're thinking here.”  
“Well, I kissed you because I liked watching it,” you say quietly. You're flushed too, from embarrassment rather than arousal now. Julian is stammering again, but you interrupt. “It- it doesn't change what I said earlier, about not being sacred off.”  
Julian lets out a somewhat shaky breath.  
“I'm sorry about that. I don't know what I was thinking, rejecting you. Temporary madness perhaps. It goes without saying that I find you very, very attractive.” He bites his lip as he looks at me. “And, it seems, by some miracle, you find me attractive too. But to what end? I pace, and I think, and-”  
Julian's monologue is interrupted by Portia's voice on the other side of the door, uncharacteristically high.

“I’m so sorry my lady, I appear to have quite slippery fingers today!”  
“It's quite alright my dear,” Nadia's dulcet tones answer her. You look at Julian, your fear reflected in his eye. You both know you're too exhausted to cast an extensive glamour again.  
“You have to leave!” Julian stage-whispers. “Run past her as soon as the door opens. She'll be far too busy arresting me to notice you.”  
“No way! I'm not leaving you, Ilya!” He clenches his teeth, a muscle in his jaw bulging.  
“There's not room in here for two self-sacrificing fools! I told you before, I won't let you get caught up in my mess!”  
He really means to sacrifice himself for you. Your heart melts a little, but it doesn't change your mind.  
“And I told you before,” you hiss back, conscious that there's only a few locks left, “That's my choice to make!”  
“Technically Pasha said that.” You slap his arm. Now is not the time for jokes!  
“I'm. Not. Leaving.”  
“Well I don't see another way out, unless you can turn into a giant bird and carry us both out!” He gestures angrily at the window, a 3 storey drop into the heavily-guarded palace gardens. You're not getting out that way.  
“Hang on.” You stretch out your magic, gritting your teeth against the fatigue, and identify something just as the final lock clicks.  
You grab Julian and run behind the shelves towards an ivy-covered wall, following the scent of your masters magic. You'll be hidden here, but not for long, you think, as you scrabble frantically beneath the ivy. There! A tiny carving- Faust, you think- and laden with Asra's magic. A hidden door opens when you press it, and you can smell fresh air on the slight breeze wafting through the tunnel it reveals. It must lead outside.  
“Quick, go!” You give Julian a quick peck on the lips. “Go to Mazelinka's for a few days, I'll come when I can!” You all but shove him into the passage, dropping the ivy over the closing door as Nadia calls your name.

You step out from behind the shelves, trying not to look to guilty, and answer Portia's panicked state with an all but imperceptible shake of your head. She sighs in relief.  
“Ah, where is your master?” Nadia fixes you with her magenta gaze, and you redouble your efforts to seem cool and collected. You have the unsettling feeling that the Countess can see straight into your soul.  
“Um, he, went….uh..”  
“Looking for me, Countess?” Asra's voice rings out across the library. You stare at him. When did he get here?  
“I'm so sorry, I sometimes take walks to clear my head.”   
“Headaches?” The countess seems surprised, but thankfully fooled by the deception.  
“No, I simply find it helps me think,” Asra replies smoothly.  
“Ah, I understand. Well I have finished in my late husband's wing for now, and you have had a few hours to research, so I wondered if you might join me for dinner?”  
Asra looks at you before replying. “We'd be honoured.” he says.


	7. “I’m sorry... I had to, once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for dub-con

Dinner passes slowly. It is nice enough, of course- Nadia only serves the best to her guests- but you can’t help wanting to rush away and talk to Asra in private, and ask him how he knew what was going on and precisely how to save them in the library… You also wanted some time alone, to sit with a cup of lapsang souchong and mull over all those memories you witnessed earlier. While you eat, Asra and Nadia engage in polite conversation, with him explaining what it is he does on a day to day basis, and what he has taught you. There’s a tinge of pride in his voice when he says that he is still unsure of what you’re capable of, as you grow stronger every day. You smile at him, and his lips twitch in response, but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. The only other notable event over the course of the meal is that Portia is the only one serving you, and Nadia briefly squeezes her hand in thanks, but it seems like so much more is passing between them than meets the eye.

There’s a palpable awkwardness on the walk home, despite your haste to get Asra alone. You exchange pleasantries, but trail off once you see that Asra is brooding tonight- he’s got that unreachable look in his eyes that he gets sometimes. You hope this time isn’t as long as the last- he was like a ghost for days. The familiarity of the shop is comforting when it looms out of the night-time mist, sign creaking gently in the cool breeze. You make a mental note to oil it before you head back up to the palace tomorrow.

You’re just fishing the keys out of your pocket when you have to stifle a cry- something has grabbed you from behind. You’re pushed roughly against the door, hands pinning your shoulders against it. Wildly, you wonder where Asra is, why he’s not helping you, when you realise that the lips being suddenly pushed against yours are his. He kisses you without mercy: no such thing as asking for permission before forcing his tongue between your teeth, devouring your mouth like it’s his last meal. As sudden and unexpected as this is, as wrong-yet-so-right as it feels, you melt into it. You’re passionate; he tastes like desperation, and you swear you can feel dampness on his cheeks. When he realises that you’re not going to push him away, some of the tension in his shoulders releases, and the kiss becomes… normal. You could almost pretend you’re like any young couple, making out in a dark alley away from prying eyes. But you’re not. You’re not a couple, you’re not in an alley- yes, it’s dark, but anyone could come around the corner and see you- and from the way Asra is pushed up against you, there’s no way you could ever say “it’s not like that,” to a nosy client ever again.

Asra breaks off the kiss, and nibbles down your neck, breathing hard. You stroke his hair, unsure of what he- or you- needs right now. He pulls back, and looks at you with beautiful, heartbroken eyes.  
“I’m sorry,” He chokes, “I had to, once.” You say nothing, thinking about the blue dress, the way he looked at you in that memory, the way he cried your name in the other. ‘Once?’ You think. Or ‘once more?’  
“Where are you going? You ask as he turns away.  
“I’ll stay with a friend tonight,” he replies, disappearing into the mist. “I need some time to think.”

That night in your bed is very lonely. It’s not big, but you feel Asra’s absence like a yawning chasm. Despite the sudden distance between you, you miss him in your bed, and wonder if sharing it might have helped mend the rift a little. Then you think about what else you could have done in this bed to mend the rift, and you feel embarrassed, because aren’t you going after Julian?

For a long time, you lie awake, thinking about the day. There’s so many questions unanswered! You’re no closer to knowing what’s going on between you and Julian, and in fact Asra has confused you even more. Neither are you any closer to finding out if Julian did kill the count or not. Everything you thought you knew about your un-remembered past has been thrown into flux by those memories… groaning, you bury your head under your pillow, and try to will yourself to sleep, but it’s not until the bakers are getting up that you finally pass into a fitful slumber.


End file.
